


no rest for the wicked

by paperthinn



Series: seeley's favorites [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Blood and Injury, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death, Gen, Murder, Promises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:35:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22139413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperthinn/pseuds/paperthinn
Summary: Everyone's dead.How's Steve supposed to continue?
Series: seeley's favorites [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715506
Kudos: 5





	no rest for the wicked

**Author's Note:**

> happy 2020! welcome to the new year :DD
> 
> i got this idea after playing the hunger games simulator w the avengers as the tributes, lol !!! this one turned out longer than expected, as they always do. i've been writin' a lot of stuff that isn't sexual, which is kinda cool, but i'll definitely get back to that soon. im super happy with how this turned out !!!
> 
> also, my winter break is over, and i'm busy with school, so don't be surprised if i don't post much in the coming months. end of quarter tests, research papers, and algebra homework is due! i'll try my hardest to write. i have about 4 and a half months, and then i'm out of school which is good.
> 
> thank you for reading !!! see my socials n stuff at the bottom as always. enjoy :)

Scott isn’t going to make it any farther. Steve knows that. Thinking about ending someone else’s life - _Scott’s_ life at that - makes him sick. How is he supposed to win this? The Hunger Games are harsh, they always have been, and Steve has no doubt Scott will bleed out. He curses to himself. He’d trusted Nat, and that got Scott here. Steve reminds himself there is no one to blame, he hadn’t known Natasha was against them. Tony, Rhodey, and Pepper are still out there. It’s three against two, three against one if Scott dies.

“Steve,” Scott winces, drawing the blonde’s attention, “You know I’m no help. I can barely move. I’m in pain. Please.” Steve’s sick, he wants to throw up. Scott’s _begging_ for Steve to _kill him._ How sick is this? How do people get entertainment from this? Scott picks up a knife, holds the blade against his chest. Steve gasps for air. “Quick and easy.” Steve can’t deny him. It’ll only get worse. Who knows what other problems will arise. How is he so willing to do this? Steve grabs the handle, kneels next to Scott.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve says. He doesn’t cry. What’s the use? It’s bound to happen anyway. He’s strong enough to end it quick.

“Steve,” Scott says, “You better win this. For me. For all of us.” Steve nods, and then Scott nods, and Steve wipes the hair from his friend’s face before he looks away, and he inhales before plunging the knife into Scott’s chest. It’s quick, easy, and Steve can’t bear to look at his hands, knowing they’re covered in Scott’s blood. What has this become? Steve screams. It echos out into the arena, and it throws itself from Steve’s lungs until he feels as though the loss and sorrow from the game has buried itself somewhere deep in his heart. Steve closes Scott’s eyes. He lays him under a tree.

Steve runs.

He knows the others heard him, and he knows he has to get far away before they catch up. Parts of the forest are burned from fires that had been started, added in to make the game harder than it already was. Steve runs until his lungs ache, burn with the need for air. He runs until breathing hurts and his legs ache. Steve runs until it’s dark. Sleeping is dangerous. He swings himself into a tree, arranges the branches and leaves until he’s covered. 

Steve doesn’t sleep well. He watches the sky. The cannons go off. A sickening reminder of what he’s done. Two cannons for two deaths, two murders Steve’s committed and two people’s blood that is on his hands.

_The Fallen._

Natasha and Scott’s faces are projected into the night sky, among the stars. The anthem plays. Steve despises it. Natasha was District 4, a district that isn’t dead yet. Pepper’s District 4. Scott was District 7. Hope, the one Scott claimed to be the love of his life, had died early on. Steve doesn’t cry. He cried when Scott had to muffle his screams of agony when he found out his soulmate was dead. He’s never been in love with someone like that. Now that Scott’s dead, District 4, 10, and 2 are left. 

Steve’s district 10. Bucky was a fighter, had gone down swinging, and Steve knew him well. They’d been friends since they were young. The death of a friend was hard, but Steve compartmentalized it. He’s killed people in here. Everyone outside the arena will view him as a hero, a winner. Everyone loses in the Hunger Games.

Sometime in the night, Steve drifts to sleep. He wakes to a scream, loud and shrill, Steve knows it’s Pepper. He wonders what happened, hears struggling and shouting down below where he’s perched. 

“Pepper, he’s dead. There’s nothing you can do.” That’s _Tony’s_ voice. Steve had become friends with him while they were training. He climbs higher, out of sight, sees Tony dragging a sobbing Pepper through the dirt. Steve looks down at them, sees Pep’s blonde hair. He doesn’t see Rhodey; Steve concludes he’s dead, most likely died during the night.

“I can’t live like this anymore, Tony, you know it’s useless. There’s three of us left. I’m not strong enough.” She fights from his grip, wipes her tears and swallows her sadness. Steve wants to get out. He can’t watch people in pain any longer. “Tony, you have to kill me or I’ll do it myself.” She spits, hard and sad. Tony looks like he’s in agony at the declaration. Steve knows he’s seen things here. How many lives has _he_ ended? Two? Three? Did he kill Rhodey like Steve killed Scott? Ended his life, quick and easy? Steve wonders if Rhodey begged as Scott did.

“Pep.” Tony doesn’t cry. Steve watches. He doesn’t have much of a choice. Steve knows Tony knows that, looks at her with a grief-stricken expression. Pepper walks forward, pressing herself into Tony. Tony holds her, and they stand there for a while before Tony sits down. Steve wants to look away but forces himself to watch as Pepper sits down, facing away. Steve can see her face when Tony’s hand presses to her jaw. He looks like he’s crying, but Steve’s not sure.

Tony holds her tighter and Steve stifles a sob when he snaps Pepper’s neck. It’s not loud. Tony’s merciful, makes it quick. He presses his forehead to her shoulder, hugs her limp body tighter, and then lays her carefully on the floor of the forest.

“Steve, you can’t hide forever.” Tony’s voice is soft like he’s mourning everyone that’s been lost. Steve swings himself down from the tree, stands in front of Tony. It’s humid. They’re both coated in dirt, sweat, and blood. They can’t _both_ get out of here. Steve doesn’t want to die. He knows death might be better than living with the guilt he feels, but he has family and he _promised_ Scott. Scott’s dead. He can’t give up on that promise. “I’m sorry about Scott,” Tony says. Steve believes it.

“I’m sorry about Pepper,” Steve tries not to look down at her body where it lays, “And Rhodey.” Steve doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to do. They’re the only ones left. After this, he’ll be one of the only ones to say he’s been through this. If he wins, of course. He’ll have to kill Tony first. He doesn’t want any more blood on his hands. Scott’s is still under his fingernails, absorbing into his skin and soaking into his pores. A lot of the other tributes who win kill themselves after, or turn to drugs and alcohol, surrounded by praise but weighed down by guilt and responsibility.

“Rhodey was going to kill Pepper. After her, it would’ve been me. He’s ruthless. I had no choice.” Steve nods. Tony did what he had to do. They all did, every last one of them who was forced into the arena. “I don’t want to kill you. I have a feeling you don’t want to kill me.” Steve shakes his head, wipes his forehead with his forearm. He knows it smears dirt over his face. He doesn’t have the energy to care.

“Natasha injured Scott. He couldn’t have made it any farther. I,” Steve swallows down tears, “I can’t deal with any more blood,” Steve breathes out a sigh, “I can’t deal with any more blood on my hands,” Tony nods, looks down at Pepper. It’s quiet. A bird chirps in the distance. Steve would do anything to get out, to leave and be surrounded by family. 

Tony shifts, and looks at Steve. He nods, and then in one swift movement, stabs a knife into his own leg and slits his skin open. Steve yells, and Tony collapses, the breath punched out of his lungs. His face is white with pain when Steve drops to his knees, a hand under the brunette’s head. 

“Why’d you do that?” Steve yells, his brows furrowed. He looks down at Tony’s leg where it’s pumping blood into the dirt, turning it into mud, dark and stained with what will soon be a dead man’s blood. Steve doesn’t cry. This isn’t his fault? Why would Tony do something like this?

“You won’t kill me unless you know I won’t,” Tony winces, putting a bloodied hand on Steve’s knee, smearing blood up to his thigh. “Unless you know I won’t survive any longer anyway. You’re a good man, Rogers. You deserve to live.” Tony grunts. Steve doesn’t cry. He tries to wipe the dirt from Tony’s face, but he just smears it more, overcome with anger. How is this fair?

“And you don’t?” Steve places a hand on Tony’s cheek, reaching for his own backpack for _some_ supplies. He’ll stay in here forever if it means Tony can live. They should both live. Why does it have to be one? Why are they so cruel as to force good people into doing terrible things? Steve drops his head to Tony’s chest, knows Tony will be in pain until the moment he dies.

“You have to end it, Steve. Honor Scott, honor Bucky, honor Sam, and Rhodey, and Pepper, and every other tribute here. Honor me. Leave here and shut it down. Do it for all of us.” Steve looks at Tony, angry and sad and guilty for all he’s done. Scott wanted him to go on. Steve didn’t know all of them as well as he knows himself, or as well as he knew Scott after the long nights fighting to live, but they fought to win, fought to be in Steve’s position. 

“I’ll do it. I’ll shut it down. I promise.” Tony nods, looks over at Pepper’s body where it lays and grabs her hand. Steve can’t look. He takes the knife from Tony’s hand and he hesitates. Tony breathes in, closes his eyes, and Steve does it. He feels the blade press into Tony’s chest, cutting through his flesh, and he lets go of it as if it’s burned him. He slumps back, lays down to look up at the sky, surrounded by death and sadness.

Steve’s a victor. He won.   
Steve cries.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> wanna request somethin', or just send me a lovely compliment?  
> you can reach me here;
> 
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> 
> take care of yourselves !!! i love you :)


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